SoCS[unday] confessions of an ex murder

For LindGHill’s SoCS, my interpretation (with music) of the “word” of the weekend: ex

Confessions of an exmurderer. If you are looking for a string of ex-boyfriends bodies buried from one end route 66 or the Trans Canada Highway of the other, you’ll be disappointed. So too if you thought a typo and it was confessions of an axemurderer.

No, there are words spelt with an es or an ec rather ex which makes me an ex murderer when there are enough red wavy lines to be a crime scene on Showcase. So, I can’t write that I go into excentric extacsy when I drink an expresso but I can exstatically listen to an ‘80s band XTC and “Living Through Another Cuba.” Note the year 1998. Note the years 2015/2016.

Living through another Cuba
it’s 1961 again and we are piggy in the middle
while war is polishing his drum and peace plays second fiddle
Russia and America are at each other’s throats
but don’t you cry
just on your knees and pray, and while you’re
down there, kiss your arse goodbye
We’re the bulldog on the fence
while others play their tennis overhead
it’s hardly love all and somebody might
wind up red or dead
pour some oil on the water quick
it doesn’t really matter where from
he love me, he loves me not
he’s pulling fins from an atom bomb
This phenomenon happens every 20 years or so
if they’re not careful your watch won’t be the
only thing with a radioactive glow
I’ll stick my fingers in my ears
and hope they make it up before too late
if we get through this lot alright
they’re due for replay, 1998